


Falling

by CROWLEYBEANS



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25209280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CROWLEYBEANS/pseuds/CROWLEYBEANS
Summary: Julian Bashir is captured when the Cardassians invade Earth, and quickly develops an animosity for his captor. Or so he thought.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 20
Kudos: 35





	1. The Descent to Hell is Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: these characters belong purely to the wonderful world of Star Trek.
> 
> Hey! This is my first fanfic in a while so excuse me if I'm a bit rusty. I would be really grateful if you could let me know what you think!

Julian knew it wasn’t going to be a good day the second he woke up, if the tumultuous clatter of rain on glass and the thunderous growls emanating from the skies were any indication of things to come. He could have stayed there listening to the sounds of the storm forever, but he somehow forced himself to get up and prepare for the day. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, perching on the edge of his bed as his brain took a moment to adjust. His attention was immediately pulled to the pair of soft brown eyes peering up at him from the floorboards. There was truly no omen in this world more terrible than Kukalaka falling out of bed overnight, Julian thought, chuckling to himself. He leaned down to pick him up, brushing the spattering of dust off of his fur before placing him snugly on his nightstand (not failing to give him a quick kiss on the forehead first, but he would deny that should anyone ask, of course). He smiled fondly at his childhood friend (and his adulthood friend, though he would deny that, too), before standing to stretch out his limbs.

There seemed an unusual quiet in the air today. That wasn’t a bad thing to Julian, necessarily. The main reason he had chosen to live in a small cottage in the remote countryside of North Yorkshire was to escape the bustling chaos of the city. It was peaceful out here, with nothing of the tumultuous energy of South London that he had grown up with. Sure it was lonely at times, but even out here, with no company other than his thoughts, he still felt less alone than he had ever felt living in the city with his parents.

But the silence today felt...different. It wasn’t the usual, comfortable calm he was used to. No, this wasn’t the sort of quiet that one could auditorily detect, since the pandemonium of the storm outside wasn’t exactly subtle. No, this was a silence that could only be felt. A silence that existed in one’s head, whilst simultaneously being very, very real. The air was thicker, and it was suddenly very obvious to Julian just how alone he was out here. How vulnerable. He didn’t know where these sinister thoughts and feelings were coming from, he couldn’t even pin them exactly… but they were there. He strolled over to his window and drew back the curtains, not surprised to see the grey shroud suffocating the skies above him. Not even a hint of the sun or a break in the clouds. The heavens were dull, flat and looked so very, very cold.

A shower would help him feel more at ease, he thought. Though after twisting the handle a few times, it quickly became evident that the water had been shut off. Frustrated, he threw on some clothes, just a pair of plain black jeans and the crinkled white shirt he wore yesterday, and headed to the kitchen. His heart sank as he realized the electricity was out, too. He grabbed a granola bar from the cupboard, eyeing his toaster mournfully, and grabbed his phone off the counter. He was almost sure he had paid the bills that month. He dialed the number of his supplier, who didn’t pick up her phone, obviously. Putting it back down on the counter, he made a note to try again in a little while. He huffed indignantly, wondering who had pissed in the world’s cornflakes this morning.

Thankfully, his laptop still appeared to have a few hours of charge left. He could get some work done today, at least. This was his week off from the university, technically, but Julian had opted to continue working from home instead. The research paper he had been working on for over a year was almost ready for peer review, and he wasn’t about to slow his pace anytime soon. He was currently writing up the results of the mutagenesis screen he and his team were working on, which was providing invaluable insight into the behavior of a particular tumor-suppressor gene. If his paper was accepted and published, it could initiate research on a new form of cancer treatment. As one of the leading genetic researchers in his field, there was a lot of pressure on him to finish.

He fell into a rhythm easily, his eyes barely seeing this screen, his mind wandering as he worked. Julian didn’t deny he sometimes wondered if he should have gone into medicine. He could easily have excelled as a doctor, as his parents had wanted him to, but his love of genetics had led him down an alternative path. That was his first little act of rebellion against them, his first effort to make a life for himself, rather than following the one they had carefully crafted for him. From early childhood, he was gifted; learning to read and write before he had even started school. His talents didn’t waver as he grew older, either, as he continued to exceed the expectations of his parents and teachers. They pegged his achievements down to natural ability, though Julian had always known otherwise. He was smart, for sure, but no smarter than other kids at that age. Julian’s parents had put tremendous pressure on him from the moment he could talk. That had definitely contributed to his constant feelings of inadequacy, even years after he had left that life behind. He never quite felt as though he reached his own expectations. He always had to do better, be better. He knew it wasn’t a particularly healthy mindset, but he wasn’t even 30 yet, and had contributed more to his field than most researchers three times his age. He would take that over inadequacy, any day.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a noise outside; the clatter of something falling. His chair fell to the floor as he stood, startled. His mind jumped immediately to one word: intruder. Living out here, so far away from any other living being, one tends to be overly cautious. But after a moment of hearing nothing further, he concluded it was probably just the storm. Nevertheless, he decided to go and investigate, if only to put his mind at ease.

He took a few cautious steps towards the door on the other side of his living room, his heart rate slightly higher than it probably should have been considering the situation. The eerie rumble of thunder outside, and the fact that he didn’t currently have any light in the house certainly didn’t help. He opened the door gently, lifting his arm up to shield against the torrent of wind and rain that tried to push him back inside. He sighed in relief as he noticed no one around. The little frog ornament he had received as a birthday present from Jadzia last year had been knocked over by the wind, and now lied in fragments on his front steps. 

Before Julian could adequately mourn for the sad amphibian, he was hauled back inside with such force that he lost his footing. He would have fallen, were it not for the muscle-clad arm that was suddenly wrapped around his throat like a noose, the other holding a weapon to his temple.

He struggled against the vice-like grip, but he knew his resistance was futile before he even began. Not that he had ever been in a predicament like this before, but he was sure no human could possibly be this strong. The guy (well, he presumed it was a guy) barely seemed to notice Julian’s thrashing. Despite his mental abilities, he had never been physically gifted. Though even if he had, he still wouldn’t have been able to escape this man's hold. He tried to scream out for help, but he could barely breathe, let alone make any noise. Besides, even if he could have yelled out, there wasn’t anyone around to hear him. Julian Bashir may have been weak, but no one could have said anything against his persistence. Even as the world began to blur, his brain screaming out for oxygen, he continued to fight. But still, he couldn’t keep up this level of resistance forever.

There might have been someone else in the room with them, but he couldn’t be sure. He thought he could hear voices, but they sounded very far away. For all he knew, it was the sound of every conversation he had ever had. Perhaps this was what people meant when talking about ones life flashing before their eyes when they die. Julian had spent a lot of time studying dead specimens, studying their genomes. He felt a sudden, strange rush of sympathy for those creatures. This was what it felt like to die. He thought about all the things he still wanted to do with his life: the potentially life-saving discoveries he was yet to make, the places he wanted to see, the love he wanted to experience. He thought of his friends: Leeta, Quark, Jadzia. Beautiful Jadzia. Hell, he even thought of his parents. As much as he detested them, he hated to think of the grief his mother would feel.

Just as he began to lose consciousness, the arm around his neck slackened, and air rushed into his lungs. He coughed violently, his eyes streaming. But he refused to let his legs give out. If he was going to die, it would be on his feet. Lifting his head, he could make out the blurred face of another man in front of him. It took his eyes a few moments to clear, but when they did, he almost blacked out again with fear.

The thing in front of him was not a man. If he weren’t paralyzed with terror, he might have pinched himself. He had to be dreaming. Yes, that was it - this was all some crazy, fucked up dream.  
But, if he was dreaming, why was the pressure on his throat so real? Why could he feel the tears on his cheeks? Why could he taste the metallic blood on his lips? No, as the oxygen began to return to his brain and the last of the cloudiness faded from his vision, it became clear that this was all very, very real.

The thing standing in front of him studied his body like a viper sizing up its prey. “Oh my, what a feisty young think you are,” it hissed. Julian took a moment to wonder whether it was planning to eat him whole, or would at least have the courtesy to cut him into bite-size chunks first. The thought was almost a relief to him - he wouldn’t mind getting eaten if it meant the thing would stop looking at him like that.

It took a few steps towards him, and he was able to make out a few facial details. It was almost...reptilian. For a fleeting moment, Julian was reminded of a film he had once watched with Quark called ‘The Fly.’ He recalled that a brilliant scientist, determined to prove the success of the transporter he had designed, decided to test it out. But a fly got caught in the transporter with him, and what emerged was a horrifying human-fly hybrid. This thing looked was like that, but instead of a fly, it had merged with a bearded dragon.

The eyes were the first thing that struck him. It’s entire complexion was a dull, grey color. Not unlike the sky outside, Julian thought. But the eyes...they were a startling blue, like sky peeking out from the storm clouds. They were so alive, full of hunger and rage, so out of place on the otherwise dead, grey expanse of its face. It’s face was adorned with ridges that circled the eyes and roamed its forehead, continuing down its neck before disappearing into the strange protective gear it was wearing. There was a strange, spoon-like structure in the center of its forehead, with (surprise) more ridges extending down its nose. The biologist in him couldn’t help but stare at the creature in fascination, even as it contemplated what spices would taste the best on medium-rare Julian. His voice was steady, albeit slightly hoarse from the struggle, as he addressed the strange creature. “What...are you?”

The thing smirked, moving closer until it’s face was level with his own. It licked its lips, not unlike a snake, and lifted a hand to Julian’s face. It seemed to be contemplating the smooth, ridgeless skin under the pad of its finger. Julian willed himself to meet its cold glare, brown meeting blue in silent competition.

“Spare this one” it spoke, it’s skin felt like scaled leather as it traversed down his cheek, lingering briefly on his neck, before it stepped away. It turned to the other thing holding Julian captive, an expressionless smirk arising from the dead, barren landscape that was its face. “It might be of use to us.” Then there was a flash of pain on his temple, and the world went dark.


	2. The Games We Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: these characters belong purely to the wonderful world of Star Trek.
> 
> This chapter is so long but it was so fun to write. Please comment and let me know what you think! Enjoy :)

Julian could recall only one other time in his life that he had felt this terrible: the day Jadzia told him she was getting married to Lenara. He had been so happy for her, of course. Practically beaming with delight all the way through dinner. They had looked so in love that evening, and Jadzia had looked so incredibly happy, that it was easy for him to convince himself that he was fine with it. After all, his best friend was getting married! She had found her soulmate; she was going to live the rest of her life with someone who would care for her beyond bounds. That’s all that had mattered. It was irrelevant that he had been in love with her for several years; it was irrelevant that she had made it clear several times, that his feelings weren’t reciprocated. At least, that’s what he had thought, until he had gotten home and cried himself to sleep. He had always known deep down that he never had a chance with her, but this had felt so final. It was a selfish, pathetic reaction and he had always known that. But, as annoying and inconvenient as it may be, the heart doesn’t care about being selfish.

It’s strange where the mind wanders when the body is hurt, Julian thought briefly. It really wasn’t ideal to be thinking about that now, when he already felt like he had been dropped from a three-story window and promptly run over by a truck. The pain in his head was the first thing that hit him as he began to gain consciousness, followed all too quickly by the dull ache of his muscles. He released an involuntary groan and forced his eyes open, his brain protesting at the light.

“Oh, thank the heavens,” a husky voice spoke from the other side of the room. Was it a room? Julian wasn’t sure. He could have been out in the open for all Julian knew, with how foggy he currently felt. No, he was definitely inside; it smelled a bit like cleaning fluid, along with a nice little hint of death (though, that may have been himself he was smelling). 

Julian wanted to reply, but he was afraid he might throw up the granola bar he had had for breakfast that morning. Or was it yesterday morning? How long had he been in here? Julian had far too many questions, and no answers. The man spoke again before Julian’s manners forced him to speak too early, something he was sure they would both very soon regret.

“You were as good as dead when they bought you in. Thought I was gonna have to share my new living space with a rotting corpse.” The man’s heavy, Irish accent seemed to focus him, and his tunnel vision lessened slightly. “W – where are we?” Julian mumbled. He couldn’t move yet, and his head still felt like it was about to give birth to a fully formed child any second, but he had managed to reply and keep the contents of his stomach intact at the same time, which was a start at least.

The man huffed before responding. “Wish I knew, got here about half a day before you did. Didn’t hear a peep or see another living thing the whole time, until they threw you in here, that is.” Sound was flowing into his ears more clearly now; his tunnel vision subsiding.

Feeling rude for not being able to face his new companion, he willed himself to sit up. The motion took him a bit longer than he cared to admit and left him embarrassingly of breath. He leaned back against the wall behind him, looking at the man opposite. He was about Julian’s age, perhaps a bit older. The light brown curls atop his head stuck out in all directions as though he had been pulling at it. The laughter lines of his eyes looked incredibly out of place on his skin that was deathly pale and coated with a thin layer of perspiration. His gaze was serious and resolved, but when he caught Julian’s eye, he gave a little smile.

“Name’s O’Brien. Miles O’Brien.” Julian gave a small nod in response. He wasn’t sure if this man was to be trusted or not; given the situation, trusting anyone could be dangerous. He could be working for the enemy, for all Julian knew. But for the moment he was just happy to see a face without scales.

“Julian… erm, Bashir,” he replied, swallowing against the pain in his head that became all too clear when he spoke. He took a moment to survey his surroundings as he waited for the nausea to subside. The room was small, perhaps the size of a large broom closet. Julian wasn’t claustrophobic, but he didn’t exactly relish the idea of spending any stretch of time in here.

It wasn’t unpleasant, necessarily. The walls were a garish white, much to the annoyance of his throbbing temples. He found himself on a bed - if it could be called a bed; it was basically a brick with a pathetically thin blanket. It was rather warm in here, though, so Julian doubted anything more was needed. Miles sat cross legged on an identical one opposite him, but apart from that, there was nothing homely about the little cell. There was a toilet and sink in the corner (at least the aliens weren’t complete barbarians, he thought). It was all so...impersonal. Though, he guessed it could have been worse. They might have been housed in an over-sized dog kennel, but at least the aliens had the courtesy to provide them with a toilet. Even the door was bright white: it didn’t seem to have a handle, or even a lock. There wasn’t even a crack where it met the floor; but at least there was a way out and they hadn’t just been left to die in some molding, underground cesspit. He was an optimist at heart.

“Yeah, no hope there. I’ve scrutinized every inch of that door a hundred times over. There’s not even a visible locking mechanism. No way could we access it from this side.” Miles huffed. His sigh of discontent told Julian he had probably been working at it for hours.

“No, there – there must be something. Let me just---" Julian tried to stand up, regretting it instantly. He didn’t make it more than a few centimetres off the bed before he promptly collapsed back into the wall. He tried to steady himself before he blacked out again. “In a moment…perhaps.”

“Steady on there, buddy” the man chuckled, “can’t have you passing out on me again. Did you know you snore?” Julian gave him the best death glare he was capable of given his state, but couldn't help being slightly amused at the same time. He didn’t really understand how the man could be joking at a time like this, but he guessed it was better than the alternative – in a place like this, Julian thought it would be quite easy to lose one’s mind.

“No I don’t” he responded, not exactly the wittiest of responses, but Julian wasn’t really in the state of mind to be clever. At least it got a smile out of the man. He had a feeling they were going to get on pretty well. Though hopefully, having drinks in a pub or something. He didn’t much fancy the idea of staying here for the rest of his life. It could have been worse, he supposed. He would probably have broken down crying by now if he were on his own; despair and hopelessness taking over. But he didn’t get the sense that Miles would have appreciated that very much. 

“Those...things. What are they?” Julian asked, though he would have been surprised if Miles knew anything more about this than he did. But he had been unconscious for god-knows-how-long, Miles was bound to be more in the loop than he was.

“To hell if I know. But whatever they are, they’re not here to host tea parties. The way they swatted the military like flies.”

“The military?” Julian questioned. Miles looked at him quizzically before responding.

“You mean you weren’t watching the news when it all went down?” Julian shook his head. He rarely kept up with the news, discounting the newest studies in his field. It was all doom and gloom nowadays anyway, and he didn’t feel like dealing with it a lot of the time. Besides, the reception at home was terrible.

Miles looked at him pitifully, like he was a child that was about to be told his puppy had been run over. Julian tried not to cringe; whatever he was about to hear, he knew he was going to wish he hadn’t.

“They got here about 2 days ago,” he began, “a whole damn fleet of ‘em. Must have been a hundred ships, at least. Terrifying things, they were; three times the size of any spaceship we could build.” He stared blankly at the wall behind Julian. He wasn’t even sure he was seeing him anymore. “They didn’t seem hostile, at first. Until the military started firing on them.” He paused, taking a breath. “Poor fellas didn’t stand a chance.” His eyes had glazed over slightly, and he sounded like he might have been speaking from personal experience, but Julian didn’t press the issue. Now wasn’t the time.

He caught Julian’s eye once again. “They never attacked any civilians, though. At least, not that they showed on the news. But everything fell into chaos, of course. The government collapsed; most of the population went underground. Some stayed above ground of course, deciding they'd rather die than give up their homes. But most families… they went into hiding.” He inhaled deeply, as if talking was the hardest battle he had ever had to face. “But we -”

He was interrupted by the hiss of the door opening. No wonder there was no handle; it seemed to just disappear into the wall. One of the creatures - he was beginning to fucking love those things - walked into the room, peering down its nose in disgust at the two men. He really needed to find a proper word for them, he thought idly. Though ‘alien’ didn’t really seem appropriate; invoking images of little green men from science-fiction movies. These deserved something more sinister. In times of trouble, his often useless knowledge of science always seemed to come back to him; squamata, the taxonomic order for reptiles. The thought of calling them squamates almost made him chuckle, and certainly made them seem less imposing. He would have to debate the new name with Miles later, he thought. Well, if there was going to be a later.

The thing glared at him menacingly. “You, come with me.” Miles looked at him with worry, but Julian just gave him a reassuring smile. If they were going to kill him, they would have done so by now. He had the distinct impression they wanted to use him for something. He hoped maybe they wanted him to decorate their hallways or something. Thankfully, the pain in his head had dissipated significantly, so Julian was at least able to stand and look his captor in the eye.

It didn’t say another word as it turned and strode out the door. It didn’t even turn back to see whether or not he was following, but Julian got the distinct impression he would regret it if he didn’t. He had to jog a bit to catch up - these things were fast, he thought. It struck him as slightly strange that it was barely paying attention to him. Julian could have, theoretically, run off in the other direction, or even attacked it from behind. He wouldn’t have stood a chance of course, he would have been caught or overpowered before he could blink; but theoretically. He guessed it just didn’t consider him much of a threat. Well, why would it? It had never seen him before his morning cup of tea.

The creature led him through a maze of winding corridors, which looked eerily similar to the little cell he was sharing with his new roommate. The walls were stark white, and it smelled of cleaning fluid. The smell was so faint that most people probably wouldn't have noticed it, but he had always had pretty keen senses. He wondered if the place had been designed this way on purpose: even if a prisoner somehow managed to escape their cell, no one unfamiliar with the layout would have been able to get navigate these corridors without getting killed before they could find the way out.

They passed a few doors on the way but they were all bolted shut, giving no indication of their contents. Some of them had small panels of writing on them, but they weren’t any language he was familiar with. He was so preoccupied with looking at his surroundings that he, being the clumsy idiot he was known to be, walked straight into the back of the creature he had been following. For a second he was sure he had just signed his own death warrant, but it barely seemed to notice. At last, they had stopped in front of a door.

Idly, as if it had done this a hundred times before, the creature held its eye up to a small panel on the left of the entrance. The door opened with a hiss, but before they entered, it turned around to face him. Its expression was immediately clear; it was a warning. “No funny business, you hear? You’ll regret it.” Julian did his best to keep his gaze steady, he didn’t want to show any fear. For some reason, it wasn’t as hard as he had thought it might be. He was feeling braver now he had his wits about him again, and was a little bit more familiar with his surroundings. He had the feeling that wasn’t going to last long, though. He was running on adrenaline; and when that faded...well, he didn’t want to think about that yet.

“Now now, there’s no need to be like that. Please take a seat, Mr Bashir. Seskal, you may leave.” The thing, Seskal, gave him one last threatening look before walking past him and out of the room without a word.

He took a cautious step inside, and the door slid shut behind him. It was bright and warm, just like everywhere else in this damn place, but it was much quieter than the other places he had seen so far. The sound of his breathing was all too evident to his ears; he thought he might have been able to hear the sound of the blood pumping in his ears, but he could have been imagining it. Either way, he was instantly unnerved. It was rather spacious and empty, with no furniture other than a metallic table in the center; a chair either side of it. In one of them sat...oh God. Julian recognized its features instantly. He was sure he would remember those eyes for the rest of his life; however long that would be.

Julian didn’t sit down, instead choosing to hang out by the wall. Yes, this would do. He’d sooner sit on the floor than get an inch closer to that thing than he had to. Hell, he’d sit on burning coals. Julian didn’t know if these things could read minds, but it certainly seemed to know what he was thinking. He didn’t care; in fact, he hoped it knew what he was thinking. It was more disgust and hatred than he would ever be able to put into words.

“I do apologize for Seskal, he’s been grouchy ever since his wife left. You’d think he would be over it by now, it has been almost 6 months.” It’s voice was like dripping venom; it made his skin crawl and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It leaned forward onto the table, clasping its hands in front of it like it was about to start praying. It looked at him expectantly, waiting for a reply. Julian didn’t indulge it. Strangely, its face didn’t betray an ounce of irritation. It didn’t betray anything, really. It was cold and callous. Whatever he had been bought here for, it certainly wasn’t for a heart-to-heart.

It sighed in a fake display of exasperation. “I suppose I expected as much, though I had hoped you would be a bit more forthcoming than this.” Julian knew the thing was just trying to get a reaction out of him. If he were Jadzia, or even Quark, he probably would have been able to remain impassive, but he was Julian Bashir, and Julian Bashir had never been very good at impassive.

“Forthcoming? You took me from my home! You’re killing my planet!” He snapped, instantly regretting it as the thing smirked at him, clearly pleased with himself for getting a reaction.

“Oh, my dear. It’s clear you have jumped to rather harsh, and rather false conclusions. We do not wish to destroy your planet. We wish merely to welcome you with open arms into our new empire! It was most unfortunate that you humans decided to be so hostile towards us. We have no wish to harm your people, we wish for you to join us!” Julian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He strolled over to the table, placing his hands flat and looking the creature dead in the eyes.

“You’re insane. Your species must be truly deluded if you really believe humanity could ever submit to...whatever the hell you are.” Julian was pretty sure his talk was going to get him killed, but right now he didn’t care anymore. This thing had destroyed his planet, his home, and he wasn’t going down without getting in a few jabs of his own, first.

The thing rose from its seat, mirroring Julian’s position. Julian had always been pretty good at reading people. But this… he was completely in the dark. He couldn’t tell whether this thing wanted to kill him, fuck him, or eat him. Perhaps all three, not necessarily in that order.

“Anger out of fear seems to be common to all of you humans, I’ve noticed. I suppose I cannot blame you for your primitive ways, but if you mean to insult me, Mr Bashir...” it said, leaning its face closer to his own, “you’re going to have to do better than that.” Julian felt its voice seeping through his skin like acid. The sound of his own name on this creature’s tongue made his insides stir with disgust. It was so close he could smell it; like leather, mostly, owing to its strange protective attire. Along with another, less distinct aroma that he couldn't identify.

“What do you want with me?” Julian asked, trying to keep his voice steady. The thing was pretty controlled at the moment, but who knew what would happen if it happened to smell his fear. It would probably do what any predator would do and go straight in for the kill. He would have done anything, absolutely anything, to be back in his home right then. He wondered what his friends were doing. He hoped they were safe; perhaps they’d gone underground. If he thought too much about the alternative...no, not now, he thought. He hoped that they would just assume him dead and never come looking for him. He’d rather rot in this hell for eternity than see them put themselves in danger like that.

The thing leaned back into its chair, gesturing to the seat opposite. Julian sat reluctantly, his stomach recoiling in disgust as it smiled coyly in response. “There, see? Much better! Now we can chat.” Julian narrowed his eyes.

“What exactly did you want to chat about? Shakespeare? Art? Music, perhaps? ” Julian responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he leaned forward onto clasped hands. Two can play at this game, he thought. The thing responded with a smirk. It might have been genuine amusement, but more likely it was just imagining what Julian’s head would look like on a stick.

“Unfortunately I am rather unfamiliar with your culture, as I know you are with mine. But perhaps in the future, we could get more acquainted with such things, if our worlds are to integrate.” Pretty fucking likely, Julian thought. But he kept playing its little game. “Perhaps we should. And your world is...where, exactly?” He feigned interest, but mostly he just wanted to know how hard he would have to kick this thing to send it back to its home world. Though if it landed in the empty vacuum of space, or in a fucking star, he guessed that would be fine, too.

“My dear, if you wanted to know about me, why didn’t you just ask?” It responded mockingly, taking a moment to examine the skin under its fingernails. “I am a Cardassian. My home is Cardassia, the most beautiful of all the worlds,” it looked up to meet his gaze. It sounded suspiciously as though it had made this little speech before. 

“If it’s so beautiful, why did you need our planet, too?”

“Because, my dear,” Julian really wished it would stop calling him that, “the truth is, we felt it was time to...expand. Learn of new cultures, form a more diverse and integrated quadrant. I was telling the truth when I said we do not mean to harm you. You humans are certainly more...skittish, than we had anticipated. Though I suppose that’s to be expected, given your process of evolution.” 

Julian wasn’t sure exactly what it meant by that, nor did he know what a quadrant was, but its words only drove home Julian’s belief that these...Cardassians, were absolutely, completely insane. How could they possibly believe people would have acted rationally to an alien invasion, especially after they fired upon their military in an obvious display of power and superiority? No, something about this wasn’t adding up. There was more to this story, though the Cardassian didn’t seem to be indulging him in any more information, and he still didn’t understand why he, specifically, had been bought here. As if reading his thoughts (Julian was more and more sure every minute that it was actually capable of doing this), it continued with its little speech.

“That’s where you come in. Just before Seskal knocked you out, most regrettably may I say, I had a browse of your research report you were working on prior to our visit.” It said 'visit' as though it was an old relative that had dropped in for tea and a biscuit. “You’re quite high-ranking in your field, Mr Bashir. We want you to work alongside us. In establishing our empire, we have been recruiting the greatest minds in the Alpha Quadrant to work closely with us. You and that engineer, for instance.” Strangely, he wasn’t all that surprised to learn there were more than just Cardassians out there in the universe. In fact, that made more sense to him than anything else the last few days. "In establishing connections, learning from one another, do you not think that would benefit all parties involved?” 

Once again, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than the Cardassian was saying. Surely he couldn’t have deemed Julian worthy for recruitment based on one paper alone, and what were they doing all the way out in the moors of Yorkshire? He decided not to voice his doubts just yet. He didn't want to let this thing know how observant he could be; that might give him an advantage, later. 

“You really believe all that, don’t you? Well, you feel free to keep using that excuse to justify your insane quest for power!” Julian was on his feet now, pacing. “You invade my world, my home, you knock me unconscious" he began counting the obscenities out on his fingers. "Then expect me to join you? You must be incredibly naive, or just plain stupid.” Julian slapped his hands down on the desk, sneering down at the thing in front of him. “You’re pathetic; nothing but an over-sized lizard with an authoritarian complex. Why the fuck would I help you?” It didn’t flinch. In fact, it looked rather pleased with itself. It rose to its feet, and they found themselves in the same position as they were in at the start.

“That’s more like it.” It practically growled, the first real reaction he had gotten out of it. “And, to answer your question...if you don’t help us, you’ll die.”

Julian bit his lip, letting his gaze fill with hate, directing it right into the creature’s face. “Then I’ll die,” he spat the last word. The tension in the air felt more suffocating than when Seskal had had his arm around Julian’s neck just a few hours ago. The things left eye twitched in response, a very tiny movement, and if Julian’s senses hadn’t been so keen he wouldn’t have picked up on it. If he didn't know better, he would have thought it was enjoying this.

Suddenly it stepped back, its change in demeanor immediate. “Well, I think that’s enough for today,” it brushed a phantom piece of lint off of its shoulder, giving Julian one more of its signature smirks, and walked around the table past him. The door opened with a hiss as it stepped to leave.

It paused just as it was about to step out, turning around to give him one last icy glare. “Something tells me we are going to have a lot of fun together, Julian Bashir.” Once again, the sound of his name in that voice brought bile to his throat. “I’ll get someone to come and take you back to your cell. In the meantime, make yourself at home. And if you need anything, just ask for Gul Garak,” and with that, it slid from the room without a sound.


	3. Flicker in the dark

True to his word, someone arrived to take Julian to his cell almost momentarily. He took a moment to collect his thoughts as he was led back through the winding maze of corridors. He was pretty sure he was being taken down a different path to the one he had come from, but all these hallways looked the same, so he couldn't be sure. The walk allowed him some time to collect his thoughts.

First and foremost, he felt ashamed to have lost control like that, especially since it was blindingly obvious that Gul Garak received some sort of perverse pleasure from getting a rouse out of him. He had always been a passionate man, that much was obvious. But he normally had more restraint than that - something about Gul Garak just...rubbed him the wrong way. He made a silent promise to himself that he would never again let himself be the cause of one of those revolting smirks. If that meant he would be killed for lack of cooperation, then so be it. At this point, death seemed like the easiest option anyway.

For some reason, he was also bothered by the title that Gul Garak had used to address himself. Was Gul his first name, or military title? Hell, he knew next to nothing about this strange race, for all he knew it could be an indicator of marital status, like Mr and Mrs. Did they even have marriage? Or gender, for that matter? As of now he had not seen any Cardassian women (at least, he presumed he hadn't). But the gender roles of this society could be completely different. Perhaps they were all just assigned one sex (or no sex, for that matter) at birth and reproduced in an asexual manner. Did they lay eggs? It would make sense, since they were obviously reptilian in nature; though they may have evolved on from this trait. Perhaps they birthed in a manner that involved neither egg nor live birth. Maybe they didn’t reproduce at all; maybe they were engineered in a lab by a higher, omnipotent power.

Thankfully they reached his cell before his mind could continue down that train of thought, which would undoubtedly lead him down some _weird_ alleys. Perhaps he could ask Garak (the name he had resolved to call his interrogator, seen as he was uncertain to the nature of Gul) the next time he was called upon. That would certainly prove an amusing feat.

No sooner had Julian crossed the threshold of his cell than the door hissed shut behind him. Miles looked deep in thought, but raised his head as soon as he entered. Julian perched on the rim of his bed; head falling into his hands. The adrenaline he had been running on until now was beginning to fade. He could have fallen asleep right there, but he knew Miles would want to hear what he had to say. He didn’t say anything, clearly waiting for Julian to speak first, which he was grateful for. It gave him a few precious moments to collect his jumbled thoughts and make a mental list of the things that Miles should know. His memory had always been impeccable, but funnily enough this situation didn’t warrant a careless spewing of his thoughts - he had to go about this carefully, for Miles sake, and for his own as well.

“He called himself...a Cardassian.” Julian began after what seemed like an eternity.

“A Kardashian? That explains so much.” Miles said, his voice tinged with amusement. Julian looked up from his hands and gave Miles an equally bemused smile. He wasn’t sure whether Miles was trying to make him feel better, or drawing on his unwavering humor to help himself. Perhaps both. Either way, Julian was grateful. He wasn’t, however, in the mood to counter his joke right now. Besides, he was certain there would be other opportunities for that - he had the feeling this wasn’t going to be the last Karashian joke he heard from Miles.

“Cardassia is their home world, and in the elegant words of my captor, their mission is to 'welcome you with open arms to our new empire!'” He made a scene when speaking the phrase, gesturing his arms wide and lowering his voice dramatically. “Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.” He said, his voice returning to its solemn tone.

“Welcome us? They killed thousands of good men! They took us from our homes! They -” he didn’t finish what he was about to say, and instead ran an agitated hand through his hair.

“That was our fault apparently; we were too ‘skittish'. Apparently, they just want to form a more integrated Alpha Quadrant. At least, that’s what they want me to believe.”

“An Alpha what?” Julian just shrugged.

"Don’t ask” he said, secretly glad that he wasn’t the only one in the dark. They sat in silence for a moment, though he was sure Miles could hear the sound of his erratic heartbeat. “But honestly, Miles,” Julian began after a moment, “there’s far more going on here than they’re telling us.” Julian spoke, finally voicing the doubts that had been plaguing him since his 'chat' with Garak.

“Well of course there is, these Cardassians are monsters. Trust me, I’ve known men like this before. Men who hide behind innocent pretenses when all they really care about is power.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Julian responded, though he didn’t doubt that what Miles had said was undoubtedly true. “I mean there’s something deeper going on...something that involves me specifically. Maybe even you, too.”

Miles looked at him quizzically, “what makes you say that? What could we possibly have to do with any of this?” Julian sighed, mirroring Miles' earlier gesture and running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, I can’t explain it,” and it was true. He could never adequately put his feelings into words, but Julian had always been more intuitive than most. How does one explain sight to someone who is blind? “I know I’m asking a lot of you here, Miles. It’s unfair of me to ask you to trust me based on a gut feeling, but something isn’t right here. I can feel it. And there were some things that Garak said which just...I don’t know, the more I think about them, the more I realize they don’t make sense.” His thoughts were swimming again, threatening to pull him under.

“Wait, wait. Go back...who’s Garak?” Miles asked, and Julian was suddenly aware of the fact he hadn’t mentioned him to Miles yet. It was disconcerting, to say the least - since their talk, Garak had become like a shadow. Always there, yet somehow not. He had imposed upon Julian’s very sense of being, his essence; that for some reason he had not felt the need to talk of him. His imposing presence was there regardless of whether or not he was the topic of conversation. Like a snake lurking in tall grass; observing, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Garak just... _was_. But again, how could he word this in a way that made even a modicum of sense? So he settled with “Garak is the one who brought me here. He interrogated me just now.”

Even now, thinking back to their encounter, he could feel the man’s breath on his face; hear his corrosive voice that seemed to seep through his nerve endings like acid. When he pictured his piercing gaze, he could have sworn he felt his eyelids go numb as if his irises had been replaced with ice. At first, Julian had assumed his dislike of the man was due to, well...obvious reasons. But thinking about it now, he realized the reason went far deeper than the mere fact that he was, well, an alien. Julian was a man of science; he had never been spiritual in any sense of the word. In fact, while he respected others views (embraced them, even) he was outright skeptical of these practices. That may seem silly now - after all, he was currently being held prisoner by a race of evil space lizards - though he had always separated the idea of extraterrestrial life from other elements of the supernatural. The probability of other life forms existing in the universe is greatly favored by statistics. But Garak...he disturbed Julian more than the other Cardassians he had encountered, in a way he just couldn’t pin down. For some reason, the thought of him made Julian revise his views on such phenomena. It felt almost _wrong_ that the man was corporeal; some violation of the laws of physics. He was almost like a sensation, rather than a form: the eerie silence of birds before a storm; a breath condensing on icy glass; the sudden feeling that one is being watched. Julian shuddered, feeling like Garak was in the room with him then, though he knew he wasn't.

“Julian, you still with me?” Miles’ voice broke him from his thoughts. The longer he thought about the man the more uneasy he felt; as though Garak could feel Julian’s thoughts. He pulled himself back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry," he said.

Miles looked at him with concern, but dropped the matter. “What did you mean when you said Garak told you things that didn’t make sense?”

Julian took a breath before speaking. “He said the Cardassians keep people that they deem useful when they conquer other worlds. People that will work with them and help unify the respective races. It appears my knowledge of the biological sciences and your engineering prowess are the reasons we’re being kept here, like fucking pets.”

“Wait, how did you know I’m an engineer?” Miles questioned.

“Garak mentioned it.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, to me it makes sense they might find us useful. If I was gonna take over the universe I’d want people from the cultures I conquered on my side. Reduces the chance of a resistance. The more diverse an empire, the more people live under the delusion that they’re free.”

“Oh, that’s not what's bothering me." Julian began, thinking of the best way to get his thoughts across clearly. "I agree with you completely. Alexander the Great, for example, achieved one of the largest empires the world has ever seen, largely owed to his belief in the importance of cultural diffusion and syncretism. But that’s not the point. Garak’s statements seem to contradict each other.”

Miles looked at him quizzically. Julian leaned his elbows on his thighs and leant closer to Miles’ side of the room. He doubted it would make much difference - no doubt the Cardassians were monitoring them as they spoke. But it gave the illusion of privacy, at least. The room was small, so when Miles mirrored his gesture their faces were mere inches apart. Julian lowered his voice as best he could. “Garak said he brought me here because he saw my genetic research. Which, I could have believed if I lived in a big city. But, Miles, my home is in the middle of nowhere. Why would the Cardassians come all the way out there unless they were looking for me specifically?” He said, relieved to finally have gotten this off his chest. But the relief didn't last long; Miles nodded slowly in response, confirming Julian's fears. He tried to keep the terror from his face, but he had never been very good at concealing his true feelings. His mother always said he was more readable than an open book.

“Or maybe they just saw your house and wanted to clear it out, if you catch my drift. Then when they saw they saw you might be useful they brought you here.” Miles said, clearly trying to ease Julian's nerves. It didn't much help.

“But that’s just it...you said yourself the Cardassians aren’t killing civilians. If they really wanted a unified empire, they wouldn’t hunt down and kill innocents. And they _haven’t_ been. So why were they at my house?”

Miles pondered this for a while, his brows furrowing in thought. He shook his head lightly. “I admit it’s strange. The way I see it, there are only two logical explanations. Either the Cardassians are in fact looking to wipe us out despite what they’ve told us, or they were looking for you.” Julian pinched the bridge of his nose; his head was beginning to throb again, the aftershock of his earlier malady.

“But...iIf they are in fact lying to us, which I’m inclined to believe they are, and are really orchestrating the slow demise of the human race,” Julian shuddered at the thought, “then why haven’t they done it already? They’re obviously superior technologically. The world is in chaos. Why drag it out? How could they possibly benefit from trying to gain our trust, when they’re just going to kill us anyway?”

He could hear the gears in Miles’ head, and the thought might have made him chuckle had the situation been different. He stored the engineering joke away for another day, if they survived this.

Miles looked up at him. “Maybe they’re waiting for something, or someone. Like an ally?”

Julian shook his head. “I don’t think so… somehow I can’t see these Cardassians being too happy about sharing their empire. Besides, I still don’t see why that would make them hold back.” Another thought occurred to Julian. “But if they were looking for me, and you’re in here with me…”

Miles shook his head, “no, they can’t have been looking for me. They just pulled me off the streets when the chaos erupted. And I’m not special, there are loads of engineers who can do my job.” This new piece of information unnerved Julian - if the Cardassians were specifically looking for him, why put him in the cell with some random guy? He was going to raise the question with Miles, but noticed the man’s gaze was now locked on the ground. He decided to put the issue to the side for now.

“You were pulled off the streets?” Julian asked.

It was a while before he replied - his hands fumbled in his lap like he was tinkering with some imaginary contraption. His hands were calloused and hard, like an engineer’s hands should be. Julian wasn't expecting him to talk, so it was a mild surprise when he did. “I didn’t wanna talk about this but...seems like we’re gonna be in here for a while. We might as well try to trust each other a little bit.” Julian wasn’t ashamed to admit that he already trusted Miles to a great extent. That had always been his fatal flaw, he thought, he was far too trusting.

“When the first Cardassian ship landed in our city, the people went crazy, Julian. We were terrified. We had no idea what they wanted with us, but no one was taking any chances. Most people had already started making plans to go into hiding as soon as the first few ships entered orbit. We were so unprepared when they came - we thought we would have more time, but…” He trailed off. Julian kept quiet. If he spoke now, he didn’t think Miles would be able to keep going after. “My family and I left as soon as we could. We didn’t have time to grab anything other than a few cans of food and some spare clothes. We were planning to head for her mother's house, since she had an old underground bomb shelter in the garden. It was there when she moved in, but she refused to get rid of it. She always said it would come in handy someday. There were so many running jokes about that damned bomb shelter.” He chuckled lightly, his eyes sad. “Anyway, Keiko and I…” He took a breath before continuing. “I don’t remember exactly what happened. It was all so loud, everyone was crying and screaming, crashing into one another... I just remember -” he narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember the incident. “Something pressed up against my neck and I passed out. The last thing I remember was my daughter’s scream. I don’t know what happened after that.”

His voice was slightly shaky, but he was remarkably composed considering the circumstances. Not for the first time, Julian suspected the man had had his fair share of painful experiences in the past. “Next thing I knew, I woke up here.” Miles finished. Julian wasn't sure how to respond; though, he didn't think one was necessary. He reached across the small expanse between them and placed a comforting hand on Miles' shoulder. He lifted his head, meeting Julian’s eyes for the first time since he had begun. They had a silent conversation; one of mutual understanding. Whatever was to come, they had the support of the other.

Julian didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Apparently, Miles had noticed, and gave a light chuckle before lying back onto his bed and turning to face away from him. “Goodnight, Julian.” He said, and Julian soon followed suit, collapsing onto his own brick of a mattress.

“Goodnight, Miles,” he said, but snores were already filling the room. Julian smiled to himself and tried to relax, but despite how exhausted he was it took him a while to fall asleep. He told himself it was the evil space lizards walking around outside that were unsettling him, or Miles’ uncanny chainsaw impression. But really, he missed Kukalaka. He removed his pillow from under his head and hugged it close to his chest. It wasn’t his beloved stuffed bear, but it would have to do. He closed his eyes, and was gone.


End file.
